I need a fact checker

  It was a coincidence that I wrote about having pale skin the same day I had a routine physical with our family doctor. I thought to write about it when I looked at the pictures on my camera. One photo stood out because I looked so pale, so I wrote about a lifetime spent with people asking me if I'm sick. "Yep. Feeling fine. I'm just pale." That's what I wrote yesterday.
  But it turns out, I'm not fine! I'm anemic. And when I wrote "feeling fine," I was referring to when I was in high school and my fellow Californians would ask. If someone were to ask me how I'm feeling these days, I'd say I'm tired.
  I have lost all credibility.
  I had more blood drawn today. It's a cruel thing to do to someone already feeling tired and lightheaded, but the tests should tell me what I need to do next. I'm feeling sheepish. It's hard for a know-it-all to be wrong.

Whiteout

  Autumn is a good time to buy tank tops because they're on sale, but I wasn't expecting to wear them this year until we had an 80-degree day flop in our laps recently, the last gasp of summer.
  Gameboy took this picture. It's a "let-me-take-a-picture-Mom!" shot. Looking at it, I realized that I might not be the whitest person on the planet, but I could certainly enter the competition. This would make me some kind of babe in Elizabethan England. I wouldn't even need to cover myself with lead-based powder. But nowadays, it just leads to comments like, "You look pale. Are you feeling OK?"
  Yep. Feeling fine. I'm just pale.
  My childhood was spent in northern Minnesota amongst other pale people of Scandinavian heritage. But at age 14, I moved to California. The "Are you feeling OK?" comments were at a peak during those years. One summer, I even tried to get a tan by lying in the backyard after school every day. Even though there's nothing at all uncommon or wild about doing that, I still consider it one of the stupidest things I've ever done. I was curious, really, to see whether I even could tan, and I did, a little. So now I know. Waste a month of afternoons lying in the wrinkle-and-cancer-causing sun, get a few shades darker. But only on my legs and forearms.
  My children have never had a bad sunburn. That's partly because I'm in a good habit of applying sunscreen, partly because we live where the sun never rarely shines, and partly because of their father. He tans great. It's the Slovenian in him, I think. Before we had kids, he played a lot of golf, and by the end of the summer, he looked like he'd changed his race. (Does that sound racist? Shoot, the man has black hair, too, so I'm just sayin'.)
  But the point is, lucky kids! Even my little blond girl has only gotten a touch too much sun now and again. I hope they never have the blistering, oozing, peeling kind of burns that I've had, the kind that make you feel like your skin will crack and you can't sleep.
  It has been more than 10 years since I've had a bad sunburn. I was running a garage sale with my mother-in-law (yeah, the Slovenian one) in the springtime sun. You know how in the spring it can take you awhile to realize that it's not winter anymore? Well, that happens to me, and we spent all day outside and I burned my arms so bad that I slept fitfully for three days. I vowed, "Never again!" and have remained pasty white and pain-free every since.

Ballet moms and the schools they bash

  I've had at least one of my kids in dance class since I started my son at age 3 in the preschool Creative Movement class seven years ago. Every year, there's a new batch of parents in the waiting room. It's always interesting to see what kind of new dynamic will evolve. Will we all sit reading books? Will we talk? Will we run out for coffee?
  The first few years, we were in a morning weekday class and the parents were all moms. Since we've switched to weekend classes, a lot more dads show up. That changes things a little, but mostly it's just the different groups of people that make things different.
  To finally get to my point, this year's waiting-room-discussion topic seems to be schools and all that's wrong with them. Let me emphasize that I, the homeschooler in the group, am not the one putting down schools. It's the other parents who have their kids in schools who are experiencing frustration and disapproval of what their kids are being exposed to. I'm just trying to keep my head down.
  I'm eavesdropping here, but we're all in the same room so ... today's problems included candy being used as a reward. One parent said, "I asked how she even knew what Skittles were, and she said her teacher gave her some!" One parent said that her kids would get numerous pieces of candy throughout the day from different teachers, even in gym class.
  Parents also said that children were being praised too much, for example, for cleaning up their art area or being quiet when the teacher is talking. These are things kids should just do, not be rewarded for.
  One parent had a story about being a volunteer helper in the class one day, and a child fell out of his desk and was hurt. As the child cried, the teacher put him back in his chair and forced him to pick up his pencil again. "Do your writing," the teacher said. "I'm sure you're OK." Or something like that. The kid was crying, but writing worksheets must come first, apparently.
  A couple weeks ago, the discussion was about too much homework. "This is my time with the kids," a parent said. "I don't want to spend it fighting over homework. They were in school all day! Why didn't they do the work then?"
  Again, I don't know what to say. I'm largely ignorant about how things are done in schools today; I'm sure it has changed since I was a kid. I'm not too interested in learning about how things are done in school. I get horrified at some of the stuff I hear, but I would never want to vilify schools; our society needs them, and there are lots of great teachers who work really hard.
  Still, though, I think I'd better bring a book to ballet class. I don't think I have much to add to the conversation this year.

Can you tell me what she’s wearing?

  "Can you tell me what she's wearing?" the worker at Target asked. And I could, an orange shirt and blond ponytails.
  Large stores have a code they use when there's a lost child. I now know the codes for Cub Foods, Wal-Mart and Target. I'm not going to say what they are because they try to be a little secret about it. They don't want to announce, "We have a lost child ..." because that would put the child at greater risk.
  So Cookie was lost for a couple minutes in Target today. Someone said they saw her running toward the bathroom, which disturbed me because that's by the front door. But we went there, turned around, decided to call other workers to help, and then there she was, running toward us.
  I do get a little embarrassed when this happens. This time, it was especially pointed when a helpful woman said she saw a girl in ponytails and a pink shirt looking for someone. I had to tell her that was my other daughter looking for the lost one.
  When Cookie got back with us, she said, "I thought you went back to car to leave!" I assured her I would never leave the store without her. And I'll have to keep a closer eye on her, too.

Pictured: "Reunited in the Soup Aisle." Come to think of it, I should always take her picture before we go into a store.

Compelling. Or not.

  One day I was eating jelly beans at work and looked down to notice that I had arranged them by color without realizing it. This made me wonder where I'd rank on a chart for compulsive disorders. It's true that I think the jelly beans taste better if the flavors aren't mixed up, and that's part of what I was doing because I like to eat two at a time. But wait, why do I eat two at a time? Is that another compulsion?

  Tonight I thought about the jelly beans again. I was playing "Lord of the Rings" edition Monopoly and noticed that while my son puts his money in neat piles divided by value (left), I put my money in one messy pile (right).
  I'm left not knowing what to think.

So, how are the kids?

  Someone asked me recently whether I was glad to be settling into my autumn routine. I didn't mean to be dense, but I misunderstood at first. Our "schedule," if you can even call it that, doesn't change much when the public schools open. Sure, we might go to the library more often because it's not so crowded, and trips to the beach are less frequent, but I don't fell like our schedule is different.
  So as life treads along and we celebrate the not-back-to-school season, I think it's a good time to do a mini digital-camera clearinghouse.

  Autumn means the return of Princess' hairbun season. I have gotten good at it, I'm proud to say.

  Gameboy had a second consultation with an orthodontist, confirming that we probably won't need braces for him. Yipee! My main point in posting this photo, however, is to once again draw attention to the shoes.

  What a difference six (eight?) months can make. Cookie wouldn't open her mouth at our first attempt to visit the dentist. Screamed and fussed, she did. This time, she got right up there and did a great job. She even let them take x-rays. (We get drinking water from a private well. That's why the x-rays.)
  I wonder, does she remember the fit she threw last time at the dentist? Could she throw a fit next time? The kid is unpredictable.

  I found her recently in her father's closet. She had thrown his clothes on the floor, which is what I was looking at when I walked in there. I jumped when I noticed where she was. Of course I got my camera.

  For about a week, she has been having me draw a dark nose and whiskers on her face. She's pretending to be a rabbit, practicing for Halloween. I made the mistake of asking her seven weeks before Halloween, "So, what do you want to be for Halloween this year?"
  I should send her to the neighbor's house and see if she comes back with candy.

got socialization?

  I should be used to the “s” question by now, but like many homeschoolers, I find it hard to understand why socialization is a prime concern to so many people.
  My friend just took her two middle-school-age boys out of school and plans to homeschool for a year, maybe more. She said that during a conversation with a School Board member, the woman reached over to touch her and said in a heartfelt yet patronizing tone, "Please, just make sure they're socialized." What? I'll say again: What?! Not, "Please teach them stuff."?
  So today I go on a small rant. What does "socialize" even mean? If I were to define it, I would say it means teaching a child to function in society. Children must learn to work with others, stand up for themselves, be a part of a team, make sure their needs are being met, be sympathetic to and help other people, and know when to ask for help. Children must learn to be members of society.
  I don't think that's what the School Board member meant. I think she meant to make sure the boys get to play with their friends. And that's funny to me, because that's what you get in trouble for at school.
  Searching for answers, I looked to the Internet. Wikipedia seems to agree with me. Of course, I could have just logged in and written this myself, but I didn't. It says: "The term socialization is used by sociologists, social psychologists and educationalists to refer to the process of learning one’s culture and how to live within it."
  I have been homeschooling for about six years. At first, the "socialization question" took me off guard. For awhile, I had a nice, tidy answer about playgroups and homeschool co-ops. But now I'm so tired of it, my patience runs thin. My new response might be to laugh maniacally as I briskly spout off, "You know, studies have shown that there is no discernible difference between the social skills of schoolkids and homeschoolers. No discernible difference! Except that homeschoolers might exhibit a slightly higher resistance to peer pressure and, as a group, tend to have a closer relationship with their parents, but that part might just be anecdotal, you know. You know? Heh heh, heh, heh heh!"
  Is that a good answer? Will that suffice?




Pictured: Gameboy's end-of-season soccer potluck last week. I'd bet money he's talking about Pokemon.

A night at the symphony (practice)

  My kids' music teacher is a musician in the local symphony, and she arranged for a bunch of school kids -- and us -- to have a backstage tour, and we got to listen to the symphony and guest soloist practice for an upcoming performance.
  Cool.
  (I'm starting to notice a certain look my kids give me when I take their picture and they know I'm going to blog about it. This would be that look.)

  When Princess saw the first cello players come onto the stage, she had a shock-and-awe look on her face, which I asked her to recreate after I got my camera back out. This is the look I got instead. It's like the first look, only worse.

  The backstage tour was neat. There's a spiral staircase so tall, we couldn't see the top of it. I used Photoshop to adjust the light and get a better look.

  You can see how Princess is good at dressing right for any occasion. "We're going to the symphony?" she said. "Let me go put on a dress!"

  The conductor talked to the kids and let them ask questions before the practice. He made my heart flutter when he started talking about how it's proficiency and not age that determines who gets to be in the Youth Orchestra.

  I think our music teacher is going to do this again. I hope so because Princess can't wait to go back. We didn't start until 7 p.m., and most of the families left after about an hour because their kids had school in the morning. But we don't have school in the morning, ha ha! We stayed until Princess started falling asleep at 9. She still didn't want to leave, but I was balancing her desires with Gameboy's, who was totally humoring me to be there. While Princess was saying things like "I wanna stay here forever!", he was doing his best to sigh quietly.
  Gameboy's piano lessons are one of those "it's good for you" things. He's a good kid, so he's working at it, but I don't expect he'll continue for very many years. He did see something backstage that lit up his face, though.

  The sound board was attached to a big computer and had hundreds of buttons. That's just his speed.

Mushrooms have sprung

  Mushrooms have sprung up all over the yard. In the 10 years we've lived here, we've never had so many. The weather must be just right.
  I like this toadstool-looking thing. I tried some mushroom-identifier websites, but I could see right away that would be time-consuming, so I took pictures instead.

  There are three clumps of these in the kids' sandbox.

  These little puffballs are all over the place.

  I think they're edible, but I'm not going to try it.

  Mushrooms are so delicate yet claim their place in the world if conditions are right, growing quickly and beautifully.

  These flat things are covered with something that makes them look spray-painted. The brown dust has gone onto the tree, too, emphasizing the effect.

  These little guys are pink.

  Here are some growing on a tree my husband cut down about three weeks ago.

  I think the yard is ready for leprechauns and fairies to move in.

  The woods are beautiful in the autumn. I tell people that September is the best month to visit here, but no one ever believes me.

Visiting Omaha's Henry Doorly Zoo

  The Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha, Neb., is easily an all-day affair. We visited last week while in town for my sister's wedding.

  Upon arrival, Cookie was the most demonstrative about the barnyard smell that filled the air even in the parking lot.

  She spent at least the first half-hour holding her nose.



  It was only after we left the even-stinkier desert building and were back in the open air that she decided the smell wasn't too bad.

  The gorilla exhibit was amazing. A sign said the zoo has the world's first test-tube gorilla. I think this guy knew what he was doing. He walked up to the viewer dome and struck a pose.

  Cookie couldn't believe it.

  Thought I'd throw in a picture of me. This is my blog, after all.

  The zoo has a carousel.

  And a butterfly exhibit. They check you before leaving to make sure none landed on you.

  You can walk amongst the budgees, too, but nobody checks you there. I wonder how many get stolen.

  These black bears are just like the ones that occasionally tear up my garbage. Cookie seemed to think they were the same ones.

  The Henry Doorly Zoo is obviously well-funded. It has all the animals you'd find in a Fisher Price "Little People" zoo or that you'd see in a children's book or movie about zoos.






  This thing looks more like a dinosaur than any animal I've ever seen. It's a cassowary, and it can kill you, so watch out.

  "This looks exactly like 'Happy Feet,'" Princess exclaimed at the penguin exhibit. Sadly, she's right. It looks just like the place where the main character was held captive and went crazy until people learned of his super tap-dancing skills. Yeah. The movie won an Oscar for best animated feature, but it creeped me out so I sold it on ebay.

  This zoo keeper was cleaning the cage of the common marmoset, so I took a picture. I had to, right?

Flower girls

  Princess and Cookie were flower girls this weekend at my sister's wedding. I have more pictures to sort through, but this is among my favorites.